


Sidekick Savior by G-Novella

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ron Weasley almost dies, he meets Death, who turns out to be a right pain in the arse. But Death offers him a deal. A once in a lifetime opportunity to fix the scales and correct the war. All Ron has to do is go straight back to his body when he was a baby, and with his memories in tact, fix things. Sound easy, right? Wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sidekick Savior by G-Novella

  
[Sidekick Savior](viewstory.php?sid=3876) by [G-Novella](viewuser.php?uid=324)  


  
Summary: 

In response to Ginnyrules27's challenge on Proboards, I have undertaken the task to start a story based on Ron Weasley's redoing the past. 

When Ron Weasley almost dies, he meets Death, who turns out to be a right pain in the arse. But Death offers him a deal. A once in a lifetime opportunity to fix the scales and correct the war. All Ron has to do is go straight back to his body when he was a baby, and with his memories in tact, fix things. Sound easy, right? Wrong.  

  
Categories: Books > Harry Potter Characters:  Ron W.  
Genres:  Adventure, Family, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Suspense  
Tags:  Alternate Universe, Canon  
Warnings:  None  
Challenges: None  
Series: None  
Chapters:  1 Completed: No  
Word count: 2469 Read: 224  
Published: 14 Aug 2012 Updated: 14 Aug 2012 

In which Death is a Bitch by G-Novella

Author's Notes:

The original challenge can be found here: 

http://readingthehpbooks.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=challenges&action=display&thread=735

**In Which Death and I make a Deal**

Ron Weasley. That’s my name, or at least, what I’m referred to as. My full name is Ronald Bilius Weasley. I have about zero talents unless you count chess. But I somehow ended up becoming a hero with a chocolate frog card, several songs dedicated to my greatness, a beautiful and slightly neurotic wife, and a top job as an Auror in the Ministry of Magic. I know, it amazes me too.

            However, this journey is not about my incredible luck. No, this journey is about everything that went wrong immediately after everything finally settled down. I guess it all starts after the war. If you don’t know what war I’m referring to, then you’re probably a muggle, or a non-magical person. But it happened. I was there, I fought, I saw things that still make me shudder, and I watched people I love die.

            It all sums up with my best mate, Harry Potter. Know who he is? He’s the hero, not me. He’s the one who saved the world from this maniac known as Voldemort. The long story is in the textbooks, and filled with errors and biases that my neurotic wife likes to nitpick at when she’s bored. The quick and easy version is this.

            A mad man named Tom Riddle changed his name to Voldemort, befriended a few crazy sadists, and they began to murder all the non-magical people and their magical children. You see, a muggle like you, could marry another muggle, and have a magic baby. This magic baby would grow up in the muggle world and then when they turned eleven, be whisked into magic land and become a fully trained witch or wizard. However, the people who grew up magical thought we should kill off the muggle-borns. Voldemort was the ring leader. He’s gone now, Harry took care of him.

            So why on earth did I do what I did? It all started that cold, rainy night.

        

* * *

 

            “You’ll be careful, right?” asked Hermione, my wife. Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and her big brown eyes were glaring at me with worry from the doorway.

            “Of course I will,” I responded as I pulled on my pants.

            “Ron! Be serious! Ginny was telling me all the things Harry told her-

            “And probably amplified the danger by a million. She’s got pregnancy paranoia. Everything is a million times more dangerous thanks to her magic bothering with her hermins-

            “Hormones Ron,” said Hermione, with an eye-roll that was so entirely Hermione that I couldn’t help but grin.

            “Those things. It’s just a quick and easy mission. We go into the store on Knockturn, break down the door, and arrest the guy,” said Ron as he grabbed some socks.

            “Do you have your badge?” asked Hermione.

            “In my pocket,” I said, pulling it out as I approached her.

            “Promise you’ll be careful?” asked Hermione as I hugged her.

            “As long as you promise to use your wand to summon your books instead of wobble on the two and a half legged stool,” I said with a grin.

            “I promise I will,” she said with a grin.

            “Oh really? No arguments?” I asked with a chuckle.

            “Always the tone of surprise,” she said with a smile as she leaned up to kiss me.

          

* * *

 

            “Ready to go mate?” asked Harry as we stood outside _Igor’s Intoxicants_ in Knocturn.

            “Let’s bring the bastard in,” I said.

            We moved in a fluid motion only we knew. I’d move forward, while Harry looked back. Then I’d stand by the door and Harry would kick in the door as I stood and watched the street. Just an old hag strolled by, asking for kippers with her brunch.

            Both our wands were out, pointing into the empty room as we entered. The side of the walls were covered in various potions. A few tables with some bubbling potions were scattered across the small shop.

            “Where is he?” muttered Harry as he looked around the room.

            “I’ll check the back,” I said as I took a step towards the back of the room.

            “Uh huh,” said Harry with a nod.

            As I moved forward, I heard a yell. I turned to see a crazed, old man jump out from behind a table. He had yellowed teeth and a haggard looking face. His bald head glistened in the dark room.

            “ _Stupefy_!” cried Harry, but the old man was quicker.

            He threw a vat of something towards Harry. I immediately pushed Harry down, only to see a cloud of purple before everything went dark.

          

* * *

 

            It’s a disorienting feeling as you struggle to pull yourself up. When I opened my eyes, I realised I was in King’s Cross Station. It was the weirdest place to be. I looked around groggily, before realising I was completely nude as I stood in the station. Embarrassed I tried wishing for some clothes, and miraculously, they appeared. Then I began looking for my wand, only to realise I wasn’t able to get it.

            “What the hell are you doing here?” asked an enraged, nasally sort of voice.

            I turned to see a tall, hooded figure approaching. Whoever it was had no face, I realised, as I peered into the empty hood. He was terrifying in appearance.

            “Who the bloody hell are you?!” I cried out in terror, jumping back. Any man without a head was not a man I wanted to associate myself with.

            “Death,” said the man, sounding annoyed as he stared at me through that empty hood.

            “I’m dead?!” I cried out in shock, stumbling to the ground as I tried to wrap my head around at the idea.

            “Of course not, otherwise I wouldn’t be here and be so polite,” said Death grumpily.

            “Then where am I? And why am I talking to Death?” I demanded. 

            “You’re here because I’m on strike,” said Death easily.

            “On strike?” I asked dumbly.

            “Precisely. For the last hundred years I have been working like a dog trying to gather all these souls. My Reapers have started to complain, lack of job satisfaction you know? In the last hundred years alone I’ve had to deal with muggle wars, and wizard wars. The stupid World Wars. The goddamned purity wars. I need a break. Even torturing the souls of the vile has lost its touch. Not to mention I have to deal with the influx of new souls!” complained Death loudly as he stormed around.     

            “So you went on strike?!” I asked incredulously.

            “Yes, three days went and not a single person died. And of course, damned Mother Nature comes along and says Death, stop being selfish, do your job! As if that’s not bad enough, being scolded by mother dearest, Father Time, or as I like to think of him, Jackass of all the Centuries, goes on about how difficult it is to measure out life spans only for you humans to mess with it, and how his life is so difficult, and how the time line he made is so perfect and all this crap about how much he works and how little recognition he gets. I ended up looking bad! Everyone was looking down at me!” whined Death.

            “So why are you telling me this? Can’t I just get back to my wife, she’s a bit mental when I don’t get home at our promised time,” I bargained.

            “NO! You messed up my plan for revenge! Time forgets that while he has control of the time line, humanity can mess it up. He forgets that the astral world of souls has more clout in the world than his little sand box. I was planning to use your friend, Potter, but now, you took his place,” said Death grumpily.

            “What did you want from Harry?!” I demanded, immediately suspicious.

            “He’s the natural hero. I can make things dramatic, put on flair, make some smoke and mirrors, and have the kid play along. It would be the most dramatic thing done in the last two centuries! But no, you had to die. You’re the sidekick, the best friend extraordinaire! I need a star, not a wingman!” muttered Death loudly.        

            “So you wanted Harry to die so that you’d have a show to put on?!” I said incredulously. His other words would have stung me a long time ago. Now I was so used to being called these things in papers and interviews that I just took it in stride.

            “I’ve said it already, you’re not dead,” said Death.

            “You still didn’t answer my question, what did you want from Harry?” I asked.

            “I was going to project his soul back in time, make Time work harder to keep up his poor me image. Asshole hasn’t had any hard work in a century. If I changed the Time line, my job would be easier and his harder. It’s a win-win situation kid,” said Death.

            “What?” I asked blankly.

            “But now I can’t, because you almost died and it’s your soul that’s on the edge. I can’t just send you back without filing paperwork, and by now, Mother has already figured out that I’m up to something. It’s not often I make personal appearances to a guest,” said Death with a gesture at me.

            “So, I can still live?” I asked hopefully.

            “Maybe,” said Death. He stared at me, suddenly looking pensive. Don’t ask me how a guy like Death can look pensive, but he did in that instant. I was quiet. He isn’t the type of guy you interrupt during deep thinking.

            “Maybe. But what a better thing for a director to do than take the understudy and have the show go on?” asked Death, sounding pleased.

            “Pardon?” I asked.

            “Look kid, what if I offer you a deal? You can go now, back to your life, with no memory of what happened. Or you can play the part of smoke and mirrors. You can become my Chosen One,” said Death.

            “I think I’ll leave,” I responded. I was done. No more craziness. I just wanted to go home and go to bed. No more adventures or war for a lifetime.

            “Now, don’t be hasty. As my Chosen One, so to speak, you’d be the tech guy. Operating the big show for everyone. The un-acknowledged hero! Of course, you’d get rewards, they always do. And I can offer you big things,” said Death.

            “I’m not making a deal with you! I know the story of the Peverells!” I said hotly, but a part of me wanted to stay, to hear the rest.

            “Those three were idiots. Took my name to enhance their products, make their story look grander. Of course I cursed the objects. The third brother never wanted my name, so I let him go. Ended up getting screwed over, but oh well,” said Death.

            “Whatever, I’m out of here!” I said, turning to go.

            “What about this?” asked Death, and I stared in shock as he extended a skeletal hand from his robe. In the hand lay Fred, or at least, a vision of him. Beside Fred, was Sirius. The hand kept moving side to side, as if shaking some dust. I saw Professor Lupin and Tonks, Mad-Eye, Colin Creevey, and Dobby go by in a shimmering order. More and more faces joined the crescendo of souls and then it ended. And I was alone with Death.

            “I can get them back?” I asked softly, staring the skeletal hand.

            “All of them, if you really wish it,” said Death.         

            “What do I have to do?” I asked, my throat constricting with emotion.

            “Give it all up. End your journey here, and allow me to project your soul back to your body, just, not the body you left behind,” said Death.

            “How does that work?” I asked Death in surprise.

            “It’s simple. I take your current soul, and pick a body to shove it in. I can send you back to your soul as a baby. It’ll take a while of course for your current soul to adjust as you sort your memories. I can’t alter the capabilities of a baby and a grown man to match. It’ll take three years for you to really stabilize all your memories. But once you turn three years old, everything, to this moment, would be remembered. Kid, trust me, just take your soul, and go back in time. You can save your friends, I can help, we orchestrate a big bang drama and then it’s over. I have less work, you have more family, we all end up happy,” said Death.

            “How do you plan to help? Why can’t you just change things on your own?” I asked, though my entire body just wanted me to accept the deal.   

            “I can’t touch the human world. It’s a law of Mother’s. Humans are to live without our interference. But if you’re a Chosen One, I can set up conferences. Check on how you’re doing. Make sure Time doesn’t screw us over. You would have the opportunity to make the world a better place,” said Death.

            “How can things go wrong if Time tries to interfere? This all sounds pretty complicated,” I replied, frowning.

            “Look, he can’t alter the entire Time Line, that’s way too much work for him. Just take the deal kid, be the smoke and mirrors. Let’s put on a show,” said Death.

            “I don’t-

            “TAKE THE DEAL!” ordered Death angrily.

            “Alright! I accept!” I said as I jumped back. He used his skeletal hand to beckon a train over down the station.

            “Good, now that train over there, take it. I’ll be seeing you around kid,” said Death.

            And so I boarded the train with a bewildered mindset and a newfound confidence. I couldn’t forget the array of souls. I briefly wondered if I was wrong, if I should just go back. Hermione was waiting at home. But it wasn’t true. I was here and I had to save everyone. It may have been a second-hand trade, I may not be the right guy, but I had the right heart. And this time, I was going to be the damned best sidekick history’s ever seen! 

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.yourfanfiction.com/viewstory.php?sid=3876>  



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